


Forgotten

by tianaluthien



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2014-06-15
Packaged: 2018-02-04 19:23:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1790401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tianaluthien/pseuds/tianaluthien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happened to Jareth after Sarah defeated him in the Labyrinth? My own interpretation and lead-in to "Labyrinth of Thorns".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forgotten

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired in part by a gorgeous Labyrinth vid set to Evanescence’s Taking Over Me (which, sadly, I can no longer seem to find anymore. Sniff.). Though the vid tells the story of Sarah being consumed by her memories of Jareth, I wondered…what about Jareth? My first foray into the world of Labyrinth fic. I hope you enjoy :)

He’d felt it then -- a strange _curiosity_ , a _pulling_ \-- when she first came to his attention but long before the Labyrinth. He hadn’t known what it meant, what it heralded.

_You have no power over me._

The shock, the sharp twist in his soul – how dare she, a mere slip of a girl, defeat him? He who was the Goblin King. He who would have been her slave, have given her all her brightest dreams and her darkest desires (or were they his?), laid low by a girl of fifteen. _Fifteen._ Even in mortal years this was counted as young – for his kind, it was nothing. A mere blink. 

His humiliation turned to rage and he sniffed and sneered and left her to her pathetic friends, drowning himself in the debauched world of his kind, laughing about her with those who shared his cups and his bed.

But try as he might – and he did try, he told himself – he could not forget. A whisper of silver in the ballroom, a flash of shadow in the mirror, and he saw her face, the shining dark waves of her hair, the fire in her eyes…the pure, glorious smile that lit her entire being. 

The smile she had never turned on him.

“She’s only a girl,” he snarled, and hurled the jug at the mirror. Her reflection splintered and he turned away, bellowing for his servants to clean up the mess.

He took to watching her in his crystals. Watched her grow and become a woman, a woman of such strength and that strange, dark beauty so different from the fae. Watched as day by day her smile grew more and more dazzling and the sound of her laughter was like the sound of a bell, clear and singing.

He watched her forget.

He could no longer see her dreams or hear her thoughts – she had made damned sure of _that_ when she defeated him – and at first he tried to hope (he dared not think why) it was only in his mind. But as days turned to weeks to months to years and she no longer picked up the book, no longer sung the melodies of his kingdom, he felt even his power to watch her slipping away; her image came less and less easily to his crystals and the effort left him sweating, drained, and short of breath. He started screaming the spells in frustration.

_She cannot do this. She cannot forget. Not while I—_

He frowned hard at the crystal, whispering the words over and over, his voice hoarse from shouting, but the crystal remained clouded. 

“Gods damn you,” he muttered, sweat beading his forehead. “Show me Sarah!”

The crystal hummed, throbbed painfully beneath his fingertips; a strange red mist swirled before his eyes, then it parted and a vision appeared.

_She wore a simple dress of emerald green that shimmered every time she moved, bringing out the green in her eyes. Her hair spilled shining over her shoulders and her face was bright and happy as she bent over a cake topped with burning candles._

_“Happy Birthday Sarah!”_

_She laughed and made to blow out her candles; someone he could not see said something and she lost control, burst out laughing, and missed one candle._

_“I guess that means I get to kiss you,” said a man’s voice._

_Sarah laughed again – oh gods, her **laugh** – and reached up. “Then get down here, you.”_

_A man with red hair leaned down, grinning, and a chorus of catcalls filled the air. He drew her close—_

The crystal exploded, throwing him to the ground, raining down hot shards of glass. He tried to shield himself but exhaustion weighed down his limbs and he barely succeeded in covering his face.

Even once all was quiet he lay still, unable to breathe for the tightness in his chest, skin on fire from a million tiny cuts, the cold fingers of dread creeping over him.

He sat up slowly, every movement making his head swim, and tore open his shirt. One look was all he needed: over his heart lay a shadow, thin, dark tentacles beginning to spread out over the skin.

Dragging himself to the window he stared out across the Labyrinth, the very same one she had defeated. A cloud lay on the horizon, wisps of grey darting out lazily before dissolving to let another take its place. Below him, a small part of his garden wall shivered, then crumbled.

He thought of the man with the red hair, of the way Sarah had looked at him, and rubbed the shadow on his skin; it felt cold to the touch. “What have you done to me Sarah? What have you done?”


End file.
